Dancing Along Moonbeams
by LikeALeadZeppelin
Summary: Chronicling the adventures and misadventures of Dariana Moondancer. This young druid makes mistakes, but there is no denying that she has a definite destiny placed before her. Will she discover it in time? (Reviews encouraged, thanks!)
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One  
  
"And that, child, was the day I looked the Lady Vox in the eye," Gwyden concluded.  
  
The bright-eyed child snuggled against him was enthralled. Dariana thrilled in her father's stories, and the one about the dragon in her icy lair was a favorite. She often pictured her father-hero, fists flying, single-handedly taking down a dragon, or a Lizardman, or some other fantastically vile creature. The girl was but a slip of white-haired delicacy next to her broad-shouldered father, but her adoration was clear when she begged him to "Tell it again!"  
  
Even at this age, Dariana wanted nothing more than to travel, travel far away and see exotic places and learn new things, just like her father. Although he no longer fought in great battles, Gwyden often did travel for more peaceful business, and when he was needed in the nearby city of Felwithe he sometimes brought his little girl along with him. When Gwyden was gone on longer trips, Dari often played in the forest, pretending she was a great wanderer, discovering new paths and forgotten lands. Dariana loved the Faydark dearly, but the seed of wanderlust in her heart was planted at birth, and it never withered.  
  
As she grew older, she sometimes ran to Felwithe alone on errands for her father. It was on one of these errands that she learned her first real lesson in traveling: racial prejudice. She'd paid a local high elf merchant for his goods, and as she turned to leave she heard him mutter a mostly unintelligible phrase. She did catch the word "Fizzlethorpe" though, and turned back with a smile to ask the merchant to repeat himself. But when she saw the sneer on his face, she was taken aback. "He thinks I am a bandit!" she realized, "a... thief!" and fled the store.  
  
It was not to be the only time her mixed heritage was met with disdain in Felwithe, although it never seemed to happen when she was there with her father. None dared disdain the only child of Grandmaster Gwyden Moondancer to his face. Dariana never told her father of the prejudicial treatment she occasionally received – after all, most of the high elves greeted her as warmly as any other – although she was sure he was aware of the general sentiment.  
  
As she grew, Dariana also displayed a great interest in her mother's stories; not tales of travel and adventure, but of legends and myths. Lodak Moondancer knew not only the common tales of their wood elf heritage, but the nearly-forgotten stories of ages ago, when the gods roamed Norrath and seemed to be involved in everything; stories of creation and destruction, of love and revenge, of races and civilizations that Dariana would never see. One of Lodak's lifetime projects was writing these legends down so that they would never be forgotten, and Dariana often quietly assisted her mother with this task.  
  
Indeed, the young half-elf's hunger for travel was matched by her thirst for knowledge. In addition to memorizing every story her parents had to tell, she also apprenticed her mother in her duties as a high priestess of Tunare. For Lodak was an accomplished mystic; many of the wood elves of the Faydark came to their cottage for healing and advice of all kinds. When not helping her mother, Dariana sought the tutelage of the Heartwood Master, or practiced her own druidic arts alone in the deep woods.  
  
Then came word that an ancient land had been rediscovered; a land that most had forgotten, but was hinted at in the legends of the old stories. Tales of dragons, sentient plant life, and dragon/reptile crossbreeds spread, and Dariana knew it was time to go. She ached to roam this land, to learn if her mother's stories were all true, and perhaps make a few discoveries of her own. It was time to truly become a Soldier of Tunare. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Gwyden watched his daughter become smaller and smaller as she sailed toward the low-hanging moon. He knew that one day she would become a warden of storms, able to command the very elements as she pleased - but for now she was as vulnerable to them as the small child he remembered her to be, and of course he worried.  
  
As she shrank into the distant horizon, Gwyden thought about all of the things he'd wanted to tell her; all of the advice he could have offered her about the dangers of Norrath, based on his own experience:  
  
"Be wary of seafaring, sometimes monsters attack the boats."  
  
"Always be especially kind to enchanters and clerics; they are the best friends to have when on a dangerous adventure."  
  
"Before bringing a Barbarian to a prestigious social gathering, find out if the noble Northman knows how to use eating utensils."  
  
Gwyden sighed. He hadn't said a word of these things, not one word. He knew that whatever he, Lodak and the Heartwood Master had not already taught his daughter, she would learn through the strength and kindness that pervaded her heart.  
  
He also knew that the world was changing. The Norrath of his glory days was already gone, and there were new frontiers for the younger generation to explore. He knew that his little girl's desire to travel would take her to places beyond her wildest dreams; beyond even his, probably.  
  
He squinted into the horizon, seeking one last look at his daughter's silhouette against Luclin's bright light, but the light had swallowed her. She was gone.  
  
"Go well, Sha'lein," he said to the moon. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Dariana couldn't help grinning even as the reaver yipped its death throes. She was really here, really doing it! Here in the Karanas, destroying unnatural beings, exploring, and even occasionally taking a moment to stop and fish. Indeed, this was the life. Friends and adventure.  
  
She paused though, to cross her arms disapprovingly and "take a break" when the scout brought back a lion to kill. She'd told the party over and over that she would aid in the death of an animal only if one of their lives were in great danger... and then reluctantly, for they deserved it for attacking the animal in the first place. Killing bears particularly upset her.  
  
Later, she sat with her back against a tree along the bank of the Serpent River, and scribed a letter home to her parents.  
  
Dearest Mother and Father,  
  
I am here on the far Eastern plains of the Karanas, where much adventure is to be had. I have a group of... I guess we are friends, now... that I regularly adventure with.  
  
Mary is an odd little dwarven woman. Most dwarven women are a little strange, but Mary... I don't know, perhaps I just need to know her well. She is most skilled with a dagger however, and she can pick the pockets of our prey without their even realizing it!  
  
Another dwarf in our party is a cleric. A funny little man, though his devotion to Brell is unquestioned.  
  
Gellafanda and Steffana are elves of Felwithe, a cleric and an enchanter. Though they take every opportunity to tease me, they can always be counted on to save our party when trouble arises.  
  
Oh, and there is also a Barbarian man named Thinor. He is nice.  
  
She paused at this point, nibbling on a berry and wondering what else to write about Thinor. She longed to tell her mother just how handsome and noble he was, but was afraid that if she said any more, her father would also figure out her feelings, and that would never do! The last thing she needed was Father finding some excuse to go back to Qeynos, and while-I'm- there-I'll-just-check-up-on-Sha'lein. She decided to leave the words as they were.  
  
All of the members of our party have also taken up a craft of some kind. Believe it or not, I am becoming a brewer! Not to worry, I have not become a drunken sot... I do not like being out of control of myself so I never drink my concoctions, but they have been well received by others. And besides, it is fun to create beverages out of nature's bounty! Of course, there are other uses for my skill; I have found quite a market in tailors needing certain mixtures to cure their linens. I know of several brewers that are working on magical recipes, too – infusions that someday will magically enhance physical and mental attributes and performance. Do not worry if I am in need of money, for I am not; my trade and my adventures are providing adequate income.  
  
I hope this letter finds you both well, and the trees of Faydark happy.  
  
Your loving daughter,  
  
~ Dari  
  
(OOC: All character names are used here with permission from their owners.) 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
"Wognoman in the Temple of Droga" as told by Dariana Moondancer  
in the common room of the Wind Spirit's Song:  
  
"That damned gnome! Repeatedly, the old man causes strife in my life. This time, I came to his aid and wound up in jail!! Me! In JAIL!  
  
"Wognoman needed my assistance in returning a book to a man named Manri in the Temple of Droga, of all places. I asked why he didn't simply send the book along, but he insisted it was necessary to return it in person. I needed a break from searching for my missing companions – indeed, that is a story for another night! - so I agreed to go along. He assured me that once we reached Manri, we would be safe. I should have known from past experience with the old cleric that we were headed for disaster.  
  
"As soon as Wognoman began speaking with Manri, we attracted the attention of the goblins. They must have had some sort of paralyzing poison on their weapons, for as soon as they turned their whips on me, my world stopped. I could not move, nor cast a spell to save my life. Indeed, I soon found myself at my soul point.  
  
"Needless to say, I was frustrated that I had been so easily bested by those lowly goblins; had they not paralyzed me, I would have dispatched them with no trouble. I was not totally out of luck though – at least Wognoman is capable of a small resurrection. As long as we avoided the goblins' paralyzing agent, I figured we would be able to get out of there quickly.  
  
"Again, I was wrong. There is no doubt that Wognoman is a favorite of Bristlebane.  
  
"We entered the Temple once again, and stealthily sneaked past droves of goblins. Somehow, we were separated – the old cleric sometimes has trouble keeping up - and I could hear Wognoman's screams as the cloak of invisibility I had given him wore off, and the goblins set upon him. I was now alone in the Temple, seeking my corpse in hostile and totally unfamiliar territory.  
  
"What to do? In my attempts to assist Wognoman before he died, I had lost my bearings. I wandered about, doing my best with my limited knowledge of the Temple's layout... and suddenly found myself imprisoned! Indeed, I had fallen into a jail cell – an empty one, thank Tunare, though I doubted the bars would stop the goblin guards from attacking me the instant they saw me.  
  
"I stood there as quiet as I could possibly be, and contemplated my situation. I could not slip through the bars, nor could I open the door. The cell was empty, but the door was locked just the same. Indeed, the only way out seemed to be the way I came in; through the hole in the cell's ceiling. But... it was too high for me to reach, and there was nothing to climb.  
  
"I knew that time was running out on my own invisibility spell, so I prepared to levitate the instant it wore off. My hope was that the added height would be enough that I could get through the hole in the ceiling and somehow escape, but... alas, I had no bat wings for the spell! When I became visible, the guards saw me instantly and razed me with their poisoned whips, and I again found myself at my soul point in The Overthere.  
  
"I was angry now, but what could I do? I knew that it would be impossible for me in my weakened state to enter the Temple once again to retrieve not one, but two corpses. I didn't even know where they were! It was time to call for help.  
  
"The best luck of the evening came when I found my Arch Mage friend, and his friend the Heirophant. They were willing to assist Wognoman and I, and with my tail between my legs, I followed the Elders into the Temple once again.  
  
"As if the situation were not embarrassing enough, the old gnome wandered off and got himself lost AGAIN! I swear, were he not an old acquaintance of my father's, I would have shunned him long ago... the man trips over rats!! Anyway, the venerable Mage summoned him back, rescued us both, and saved the day.  
  
"All in all, it was a most exhausting and embarrassing excursion. And the next time that gnome asks for my assistance, unless it is in familiar territory, I will most assuredly decline!" 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five  
  
"Gella?!" Dariana asked, approaching the tall blonde elven woman with an excited stride, pleased to have found her friend at last. Yet when the woman turned to face her, Dari stopped short. "Excuse me," she said. "I thought you were someone else." With a sigh, she hefted her backpack strap and continued on to the Emerald Dragon.  
  
Where was Gellafanda? And the others? Were they together, or all lost singly? Were they searching for her? It seemed so odd that the entire party had disappeared at once, and Dariana had searched for them all. She had some idea where their dwarven cleric had gotten to, but she could never seem to catch up to him. As for the others... they were gone, all gone. It had been so long that Dari had given up the active search, but she still had to investigate every remotely familiar face. She just had to!  
  
Settling onto a barstool in the Emerald Dragon, Dari dropped her backpack to the floor with a heavy thud, and nodded to the bartender; he'd bring her some fruit juice without being asked. Though the only place she called "home" was the woods of the Faydark, she frequented this place quite often. With a sigh, she mused.  
  
Mynerva was a new friend, at least. They didn't know each other well yet, but Dariana felt they could be great friends, given the chance. The poor girl had a story to tell, that was sure, but at the moment Dari was thinking only about what to do to keep ennui from weighing upon her like a wet blanket. Her drink arrived, and she swirled it absently.  
  
Her old friends were gone, she had to move on. She had waited for them for too long, distracting herself with quests and crafting, but even that was growing tiresome. She'd mastered every skill she had an interest in, and was in fact approaching the talents of her pottery teacher. But she was... restless. Restless? Aye, and purposeless, too. Not even a bank full of unfinished quest items seemed to motivate her anymore.  
  
Other friends had invited her to join their guilds, but none of the organizations had interested her. At the time, she had believed herself to be destined for a higher purpose, but now... she wondered. She had lost her focus. Indeed, she had begun to question her convictions, her very destiny. She was even hunting animals now – well, feline types at least. Where was the fanciful girl that loved to pretend she was Firiona Vie, Tunare's Champion, cajoling the nearest forest wolf into playing the part of her Companion Equestrielle?  
  
Her cheeks flaming a bit at that memory, she took a small swallow at the fruit juice before her. A druid. A Tunare-loving, Firiona-worshipping druid turned... bleh. And if the truth were to be told, she knew she was lonely. Adventuring without companionship and camaraderie was just... boring.  
  
She set the drink back down and leaned far back for a stretch, muttering an Elven curse of frustration under her breath. Perhaps her destiny wasn't adventuring, after all. Perhaps she belonged in the Faydark with her mother, ministering there, though even the thought wrinkled Dariana's nose.  
  
It was quiet in the pub; herself, an old mage, and a small group of chatty Halflings were the only customers. Glancing about the room, a notice caught her eye. It was just a small piece of parchment, in the corner of a section of the wall set aside for public notices. "Language Faire," it announced.  
  
"Hmmm," she thought. "It has been some while since I taught a language, and even longer since I've learned one." Her interest piqued, she stood up, crossed over to the wall and examined the announcement more closely. "Faire sponsored by Dark Inheritance," it read.  
  
"Dark Inheritance? What is that, some sort of horrible troll guild?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Nae, child." The voice came from the elderly mage, seated nearby. "The 'Dark Inheritance' is that destiny to which all citizens of Norrath are set... the struggle of Light versus Dark, and the Shadow that balances both."  
  
At Dariana's thoughtful look, he continued, piercing her with his glittering black eyes. "Which will prevail? Do you know, Druidess? Do you care?" He was leaning toward her now, those eyes – and his questions - grabbing her heart. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six  
  
The nighttime sounds, usually so comforting to her, were now nothing but distracting. Even the rustling of the Jaggedpine leaves, so far above her head, seemed to be as bothersome as the whispers of children awake far too late.  
  
Dariana rolled over once more, pulling her cloak even tighter about her shoulders. I need to sleep! she thought. But all she could do was go over yet again the events of earlier in the evening, at the language faire.  
  
Remembering how enjoyable it was to actually learn a new skill was enough to make her smile, but the interesting people that she'd met had totally captured her attention. The Baron Ryuujin – so much like Father it fairly hurt to look upon him. His wife, the Pathfinder Raiya – with a smile so warm that she'd immediately felt welcomed among them. The dark elf Meneltel – now there was a story, she was sure! There had even been a Barbarian man amongst them – the one they called "Lorekeeper", whatever that meant.  
  
Indeed, the night had been enjoyable, and Dariana truly felt, for the first time, that perhaps this was a group of people she could join. People with a philosophy similar to her own. They divided themselves into groups she could understand, and had a common goal she could believe in. Did believe in, already. Indeed, the only problem was... to which House did she truly belong?  
  
She had done enough asking around to know that as a druid of Tunare, she would automatically be placed into the House of Light – should she be accepted, of course. But her heart was troubled, fearing that perhaps that was not where her individual beliefs would place her. Though she would certainly fight evil where she found it, she lacked a paladin's fervor for vanquishing Darkness. Indeed, she felt that without Darkness there could be no Light.  
  
And was that not the central tenet of the House of Shadow? And even if Dark Inheritance were to allow her to become one of Umbra, would Tunare be angry with her? No doubt there would be consequences.  
  
Dariana rolled over yet again, then finally just sat up and leaned back against the gigantic tree trunk. She pulled her knees to her chest, clasping her fingers around them, and closed her eyes. There would be no sleep tonight though, not until she had her answers. So far, all she had were the sounds of the children of the Glade, whispering all around her. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven  
  
Suddenly, a different sound reached her. Not loud, just... different. Dariana turned to look in the direction of the sound, and caught just a glimpse of something large and white as it passed behind a thick Glade shrub. Her interest piqued – and perhaps needing a distraction from the musings that had been keeping her awake so late – she pushed herself up, grabbed her backpack and followed.  
  
There was no doubt the figure was large, and it was quick, choosing its path through the forest with a sure and quiet step. Dari herself was barely quieter, despite being much lighter and smaller than whatever it was she was following. An expert tracker, she'd already concluded that the creature was a horse. Or perhaps a centaur – it was impossible to tell from just the hoof prints. Truth be told, the druid began to wonder if the whatever-it- was was leading her somewhere, for surely it seemed to occasionally pause to wait for her to catch up! Thoroughly intrigued, the young half-elf quickened her pace and did her best to keep up.  
  
On and on she followed, to places in the Jaggedpine Forest Dariana had yet taken the time to explore. Finally, she found herself in a hidden clearing, and the horse was before her, shimmering in a ray of moonlight that beamed pointedly into the clearing.  
  
Only it wasn't a horse. It was a gleaming white unicorn, and it was standing beside a tall, fair elven woman whose proud chin was raised and pointed straight at Dariana. Clear, determined eyes sought her own, then twinkled with an inward smile. With the barest nod she turned and walked north, indicating that Dariana was to follow.  
  
Follow she did, keeping pace with Firiona Vie and Equestrielle, for that was whom these two surely were. The elven woman's pace was purposed, but not fast, and her strong arm was draped low about the unicorn's neck in a comfortable pose. Not one of them spoke; indeed, all three took long, purposeful strides as if their destination were eagerly awaiting them.  
  
The forest became grassland; became frigid desert, became ocean and beach, mountain and marshland. Still, Dariana followed. Eventually, her sense of time and physicality vanished; sunrise, sunset, hunger, thirst, rain, sunshine, fatigue... all blurred together so that Dariana felt each as part of a whole, nothing individually beautiful or painful or needing attention.  
  
She had no idea how far or how long they had traveled when suddenly, as if awakening with a wide-eyed start from a dream, she knew where they were! They were passing right through the Greater Faydark! Firiona showed no sign of slowing however; she continued to lead the party with that purposeful stride; heading southeast now. Dari wondered if her mother could see her, parading amongst the trees with Tunare's Champion. Then she realized that there were neither people nor animals nearby, none at all; and the mist of the forest had an odd greenish hue. "How curious," Dariana thought. For the first time, she wondered if she had fallen asleep under the Jaggedpine after all; perhaps this whole adventure was a dream.  
  
When the forest broke to expose a large lake glittering in the moonlight, Dariana drew her breath in quickly. This was Lake Elizerain! Nestled into the foothills of the Steamfont Mountains, its chilly waters were the final resting place of Edril, the storied elven hero. This was one of Dariana's most favorite places on Norrath. She had come here often, first as a child to play on its shores with her parents, then as an adult whenever she sought solace and communion with Tunare. Given her state of mind of late, it had been a few years since she had been here last, but she knew it immediately.  
  
Firiona Vie stopped abruptly and lowered herself with single fluid motion, sitting with her legs crossed and facing Dariana. Equestrielle took her position nearby, draping her long white nose over Firiona's shoulder and whickering softly. Following their cue, Dariana also sat upon the sandy ground, near a clump of rushes.  
  
Her golden ponytail bobbing, Firiona worked to remove a small leather pouch from her belt, then handed it to Dariana with a smile. When the druid accepted the pouch, Firiona indicated with a simple wave of her slim hand that she was to open it.  
  
Dari carefully tipped the contents of the pouch into the palm of her hand, and stared. She was holding a small pile of emeralds, but they were like no emeralds Dariana had ever seen, not even after imbuing them with Tunare's essence. These stones glowed with an inner light, casting a greenish hue that was not unlike the greenish mist in the forest they had just passed through.  
  
She looked up at Firiona, speechless and questioning. The elven woman simply stood up, smiled again, and finally spoke. "Ilsar'rin. Until we meet again, Sha'lein." She nodded once, and walked back into the forest, her arm again draped casually over the unicorn's glistening withers. The two of them faded into the mists of the Faydark.  
  
Dariana's mind raced as she carefully replaced the gems into the plain leather pouch. What had just happened? What was the significance of the gems? Why had Firiona Vie brought her here, to Lake Elizerain? What did she mean by ilsar'rin, "for the People"? How long had they been traveling? This was all some sort of crazy dream, she decided. Nothing is making any sense.  
  
She settled back down upon the ground, pulled her cloak tightly about her once again, and shut her eyes tightly, determined to sleep. This time, there were no distracting whispers.  
  
Later, she awoke to the sound of a lake lapping nearby and a lumpy leather pouch clutched in her hand. Rising, she hurriedly bathed in cold water. She had to seek out the Ryuujins immediately, and take her oath. There were still a great many questions to be answered, but she knew that three things were certain: her adventure had not been a dream; her life did have a higher purpose; and she would be pledging the House of Light with an ardent heart. 


End file.
